Double Down
by sadtomato
Summary: "I was so psyched to have a kid my age to talk to about feeling different and worrying about school and guys and..." Jasper and Edward are best friends, but what happens when they finally get some time alone? M for curious HS boys and sticky hands.
1. Chapter 1

**This was inspired by the lovely fr333bird. If you like the slash, check out her profile. She writes amazing stories for Twilight, Harry Potter, and Merlin (I don't get into all these Merlin shenanigans but I read her Merlin fics because they're so sweet).**

**Thanks to TheManiacalMuse for her suggested band names, one of which seemed just right. No thanks for SingleStrand, whose suggestions all included the word "jizz." **

**Am I still supposed to say that I don't own Twilight? I think I stopped doing that a while ago, oops. **

* * *

><p>The bench at the bus stop is freezing.<p>

I try to tug my coat down lower to put another layer between my ass and the cold metal, but it doesn't help. My right leg bounces up and down-I'm not sure if it's because I'm nervous or if my body is trying to stay warm.

Edward will really love this, though. That I'm picking him up at the bus stop. He knows where my mom's house is, he could walk the two blocks on his own, but he'll love seeing me here waiting. No one else does shit like this for him.

Finally the bus turns the corner and I jump up from the bench. I squint as it makes its way to me slowly, looking for Edward even though I know he sits in the back. The brakes squeal as the bus lurches to a stop.

_Swoosh-thunk. _The doors open, and there he is-tall and gangly like me, but with a chest that's starting to get just a little more broad and manly. His hair is all fucked up, the normally wild strands matted down against his head like he's been wearing a hat all day.

He looks... gorgeous. Adorable. Sexy.

Edward hops off the steps and strides forward, coming right at me, and for a thrilling, terrifying few seconds, I think he's going to kiss me.

He stops short, though. Stands in front of me and just grins.

"Hey, Jasper," he says. _Fuck me,_ do I want to kiss him.

"Hey. It's fucking cold, let's go." I want to kiss him so bad, or just fucking hold his hand. He hesitates for a minute, and I wish (for the millionth time) that this could be easier.

"C'mon," I tell him, nudging him with my elbow.

Even that small amount of physical contact in public makes him nervous, I can tell, but he eases up and falls into step beside me.

"Almost got detention today," he says, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his navy pea coat. "Would've sucked."

"Yeah, seriously. What'd you do?"

"I uh, I just couldn't pay attention in calculus. Teacher kept calling on me but I wasn't listening, didn't have any answers."

I snort. "Bet that went over well, Boy Genius." His cheeks flush red and I nudge him again.

"Yeah, she said I was being 'deliberately disrespectful,' or whatever. Made me stay after class, but I apologized and told her my parents were on my case and stuff. She let me go after that," he says, shrugging like it's nothing, like it's something he just made up to get out of trouble. Like he wasn't telling the truth.

Fuck, I really want to hold his hand.

"Glad you didn't have to stay after," I tell him honestly.

He smiles again-the wide, happy smile he saves for me. "Me too."

* * *

><p>When we get to my place, he stands on the front porch and looks around warily before following me inside.<p>

As soon as the door is closed, some of his tension seems to melt away.

Even though we go to different schools, even though Edward lives on the other side of town, even though there's no way in hell that anyone in his parents' social circle would ever be in this neighborhood, he's still paranoid.

They know that he's gay. Well, they know that he _said_ he was gay. They just don't believe him. They think he's "acting out" or "going through a phase."

We met online, on a message board about this local band, Double Down, that we both really like. We traded emails and instant messages for months, sharing pics and YouTube videos of the band. Eventually we started talking about life, too, and after a lot of hints were dropped, we both came out to each other.

It was awesome.

I was so psyched to have a kid my age to talk to about feeling different and worrying about school and guys and shit. My mom tries to be all positive and involved, but there are some things you just can't discuss with your mom-like how hot the lead singer of Double Down is.

The first time he came to my place, my mom was home. She hugged him and kissed his cheeks, and I thought he was going to run out the door. Edward likes that stuff, though-I don't think his parents are very affectionate. I was so relieved that we got along in real life just like we did online, and I thought he was beautiful.

We've spent a lot of time together since then-we even got my mom to drive us downtown so we could go to a DD concert. He's my best friend now, and I know I'm his.

I think we might be more than that, too, but I'm not sure yet. We haven't really had much time alone, until today.

My mom left this morning for one of her hippie soul-searching retreat things, and my older brother is supposed to be "watching" me. Peter works though, long hours, and he won't be done with work tonight until eleven at the earliest. I texted him to confirm that at least three times today.

"It's quiet," Edward says, toeing off his boots and lining them up neatly next to the front door. "Your mom's always singing."

"She's mental." I kick my shoes off and leave them where they lie, enjoying the freedom of having the house to myself.

"Nah, she's cool." Edward shakes his head while he talks, shrugging off his coat at the same time. Sometimes I forget how mean Edward's parents are compared to mine, and I feel guilty for saying shit like that about my mom. She knows I'm gay and it's never once changed the way she treats me. The only bad thing about is the safe sex talks are even more embarrassing.

* * *

><p>"CoD?" I ask, leading him to my room.<p>

"Yeah, sounds good." Edward follows me and sits on the floor in front of my bed, facing the TV. Usually I sit up on the bed behind him, but today I sit on the floor, too.

We play XBox games for a while, elbows clanking and knees bumping together occasionally. We've played video games together a dozen times, but this time it's different. I keep getting shot because I can't pay attention to the game-Edward's profile is distracting me. His lips, mostly. He keeps licking them, which makes me think about tongues and kissing and-

"Ouch! Did that hurt? When I shot you in the face?" he laughs. When he turns to catch my reaction, he must realize I'm staring at him. His cheeks turn bright red and he looks back at the television.

It's fucking awkward. Maybe it's my one chance, though, to say something. Or try something.

I fumble with the buttons on my controller, and my mouth opens before I've really thought the words through. "Do you ever think about getting a boyfriend?"

Edward's jaw drops and he looks down at his lap. "I... I don't think-" He stops suddenly when we hear the front door slam.

"Jay? You here?" Peter bellows.

"He's not supposed to come home," I mutter, before answering my brother in a louder voice. "In my room!" Edward scoots away, putting some distance between us before Peter sticks his head in the doorway.

"Just came home to get some dinner before I go back for the late shift," he says, his eyes flickering back and forth between me and Edward. "Hey, Eduardo."

"Hey." Edward is scrolling through the menus on the XBox like he's on a mission.

"Jay, come help me out in the kitchen for a minute, man," he says. I raise an eyebrow and gesture to Edward, wondering what the fuck he wants from me when I have a friend over. Peter gives me a dirty look and nods in the direction of the kitchen before he disappears.

"Be right back," I tell Edward.

Peter's waiting for me with the refrigerator door open, a bottle of Gatorade in his hand as he rifles through the food.

"What do you want? We're playing CoD. I don't want to make him wait," I tell Peter, shoving him out of the way so I can grab two Cokes.

"Is Mom cool with him being here?" he asks. "I don't want to be a dick about it or anything, just asking."

"Yeah, she said I could have a friend over, but only one. No parties," I tell him honestly, tucking the Cokes under my arm and grabbing a bag of chips. Our mom is really cool about house rules, so we've both always done our best to stick to the ones she does lay down.

"Right, a _friend_. Are you allowed to have your boyfriend over here alone?" he asks.

Shit. Now it's my turn to blush.

"Jesus, Pete. He's not my fucking boyfriend."

"Riiiiight," he says, slamming the fridge closed with his hip after he's found some leftovers. "You don't have to lie about it, Jay."

"I'm not lying! Jesus!" I'm fucking mortified.

"Well, look, that's cool. If you're just friends, it's all good. If you're like, together, I don't know what the rules are." He dumps some casserole on a plate and puts it in the microwave.

"What were the rules when _you_ were my age?" I ask, exasperated.

Peter stops to think, leaning against the kitchen counter. "You know Mom. She always said she'd rather have me bring a girl here than sneak around in parking lots and shit, as long as I was being safe. She didn't want me knocking some girl up." He snorts, crosses his arms over his chest, and grins at me. "Guess that's one thing you don't have to worry about."

"Guess not," I tell him, rolling my eyes. "Can I go back to my friend now?"

"Fine," Peter says, moving out of my way. "Just don't do anything crazy. And if you ever decide to do something crazy, there's condoms and lube in my nightstand drawer. I don't need to explain that shit to you, do I?"

"Christ, this is not happening to me," I mumble. "No, Peter, Mom demonstrated quite graphically with a banana and traumatized me for life by making me practice on one, too."

"You'll get over it, bro. Trust me," he says, laughing and clapping me on the shoulder as I pass by him, my arms full of chips and soda.

"Everything alright?" Edward asks, as I walk back into my bedroom. I kick the door closed behind me and drop the chips on the floor next to him.

"Yeah, he's just on a power trip," I tell him. "It's cool."

* * *

><p>After a couple of hours of video games, Edward tosses his controller down and rubs his eyes with his fists.<p>

"I can't look at the screen anymore," he says.

"Yeah, me either." I slump back against my bed and watch Edward stretch his arms up over his head. I can see just a little sliver of skin when his t-shirt rises up over the waistband of his jeans, and it's the sexiest thing I've ever seen. I know instantly that the next time I jack off, it won't be to celebrities, faceless guys, or the snippets of porn I've found online-it will be all about that little slice of pale flesh on my best friend's back.

"What do you wanna do now?" he asks, and I have to bite my tongue to stop from moaning. My dick is getting hard, and we're so close, I'm fucking terrified he's going to see it. And I kind of want him to see it.

"We could, uh, get some food, I guess?" I offer, drawing my knees up to my chest. "Or we could watch a movie on demand or something."

Edward's quiet, really quiet.

Even when he talks again, his voice is barely a whisper.

"Before-before your brother came home? You asked me about... boyfriends?"

I swallow hard and wrap my arms around my knees. "Yeah, I mean, we don't really talk about it. Have you... or like, are you looking for anyone?"

He shakes his head sadly. "I wouldn't even know how to start... I mean, I'm not out at school, and my parents... yeah. It's not like I could have anyone come over or whatever. And..." His voice trails off and he looks down at the carpet, dragging his fingers through the pile in random little patterns.

"And what?" My voice is shaking, and I clear my throat to try to cover up my nerves.

"I wouldn't know what to do," he whispers. "I wouldn't know how to... I've never even kissed anyone. And guys seem like they go really fast, you know? No girl to slow things down or whatever."

"I kissed someone," I admit. "But it was a girl. It wasn't any fun."

Edward just nods, and I worry that I've embarrassed him.

"I've never seen another guy's dick," I blurt out. "I mean, not in real life. Only in porn. I wouldn't know what to do."

"Me either." Edward lifts his head and stares at me.

For a long time, a really long time, we just look at each other. It feels like we're both waiting for the other one to say something, but I don't know what that something is.

It turns out Edward is the brave one, the one to get things started.

"We could-" he starts, and I cut him off with my enthusiasm.

"Yeah."

"Just to see?"

"Yeah," I tell him again, letting go of my death grip on my knees. I stretch my legs back out on the floor in front of me and see that my boner is tenting my pants pretty obviously now. Edward's eyes drop to my lap and he licks his lips.

Shit. This isn't going to last long.

"I'm kind of hard already," I admit, the sound of my voice echoing in the quiet room.

"Me too," he says, dropping one hand down between his legs. He rubs at the bulge forming there, and I feel my heartbeat start racing.

We watch each other rub our dicks through our clothes, the sound of fabric shifting mixing with our heavy breathing.

When my dick starts aching and the urge to really stroke it is too much, I tug at the button at my waistband. Edward watches, rapt, and slows down the movement of his hand while I undo my flies.

"Yeah," he whispers, almost to himself, as I slip my hand under my boxer briefs and wrap it around my dick. I sigh and stroke myself slowly, relieved to have some direct contact, but I'm afraid to pull it out completely.

What if Edward's is bigger? A lot bigger? What if it's different? What if he doesn't like mine? What if there's something wrong with it and I just haven't seen enough other ones to notice?

I almost miss the sound, with all the panic going on in my brain. A zipper sliding down, and Edward shuffling around on the floor. He pushes his legs out in front of him just like me, but lifts his hips and pushes his jeans down to his knees. He's wearing blue plaid boxers, his erection pushing up urgently against the fly.

"Same time?" he says, slipping one hand beneath the waistband. He must be worrying about the same things that I am, which is comforting.

"Yeah, same time," I agree. Slowly, with my eyes locked on Edward's lap, I push my underwear down with one hand and pull my dick out with the other.

_Holy Shit_. Edward's dick _is_ different. He's got a foreskin, and the skin is paler, pinker than mine. His hand is wrapped tightly around it, his thumb brushing slowly back and forth against the sheath covering the head.

"Wow," he says. I nod my head in agreement until I realize that he's looking at mine. I glance down at my own familiar cock resting in my loose fist.

"It's nothin' special," I tease, and Edward looks up into my eyes for the first time since we started all this. He smiles, but his eyes drop down over my body and back to my dick.

"It's big," he says.

"We're about the same, I think."

"You're definitely bigger," he insists.

"Maybe." I'm trying hard to talk to Edward instead of attacking him; he never said he wanted to do anything but look. My hand, though, automatically goes through the motions-gripping, twisting, and stroking my needy erection.

"Jesus," Edward whispers. "Are you always so rough like that?"

"I don't know. It's just what I do, I guess. What do you do?" I ask him, hoping that he'll show me instead of just telling.

"I guess just... like this," he says, tugging on his cock. I watch the sheath of skin slip over his head to cover it, and then back down towards the base of his dick with the motion of his hand. The tip of his cock is bright pink, flushed, and shiny wet. I think about leaning forward and licking it, wrapping my lips around it and sucking, but I can't bring myself to move. The only part of me that seems to be functioning is my right hand.

"Does it feel good?"

"Yeah, really good," he says.

Even though I can hardly bear to stop touching my cock, my hand is too fucking dry. I lift it up to my mouth, spit, and drop it back down quickly.

We each speed up a little as we watch each other. Edward pushes his boxers down over his hips completely and cups his balls with his free hand, rolling each one between his thumb and his forefinger. I press down right at the base of my dick, and then smooth my hand up over my stomach and under my shirt.

"That looks really good," I tell him, watching him play with himself with both hands.

"Fuck," he whines, lifting his hips up off the floor. "What do you... what do you usually think about?"

"Guys... like... celebrities. Or guys in porn. Or..." _You_, I think, but I can't bring myself to say it.

"No one you know?" he asks, gasping as he works himself over harder. His neck and his face are flushed, his head turned to the side to face me.

"Sometimes," I admit, turning to face him, too. We both have our cheeks pressed against the bed, and we've managed to tear our eyes away from each others' dicks. He's looking right at me, his lips parted as he moans and gasps, and I feel my balls start to tighten and my thighs start to quiver.

"Do you ever think about me?" he asks, his voice desperate.

"Yeah. Fuck, yeah," I whisper, and Edward's eyes squeeze shut.

"Oh, God!" he calls out, and I look down at his hands just in time. He's stroking himself fast and hard, the head of his cock bright red now as cum starts spurting out onto his t-shirt. "Fuck, Jasper. Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

I don't know if it's the sight or the sound of him coming, or just the thought that he's so turned on by _me_, but it's only seconds before I'm coming too. I feel the warm spurts falling over my stomach and my hand, and I keep stroking myself through it as I watch Edward squeeze the last few drops of jizz out of his own cock.

"Jesus," I moan, my body slumping over slightly as my tense muscles all ease at once. My forehead knocks against Edward's, and suddenly I can feel his hot breath against my mouth. My eyes flutter open and I see him staring at me, his face so fucking close, and this time _I'm_ the brave one. I tilt my head and push my lips softly, tentatively against his.

He kisses me back, and I can feel him smiling against my lips. It's slow and tender, both of us cuddly and sated after coming together. Edward's hand cups the back of my head, holding me to him, and we kiss until we're both panting and out of breath again.

"Wow," he whispers, when he finally pulls away.

"That was so hot," I tell him, laughing as he combs his fingers through my hair.

"Oh, shit, Jasper. I think I got cum in your hair!" he says, pulling his hand away. He laughs and wipes his sticky fingers on his boxer shorts. Even though this situation _should _be awkward-we just jerked off in front of each other and our dicks are still exposed-Edward is more relaxed and happy than I've ever seen him.

"Fuck it," I tell him, tugging his hand back up and encouraging him to wrap it around my neck again. He chuckles and leans in, pressing his lips to mine over and over again.

* * *

><p>Eventually we break apart and clean ourselves up, taking separate turns in the bathroom.<p>

"Want to borrow a t-shirt?" I ask, using a finger to trace the cum stains on his shirt after he reappears in my bedroom.

"Yeah, that'd be good," he says, grinning. I grab a t-shirt from my drawer and turn around in time to stare blatantly as he pulls his own soiled shirt up and over his head. He drops it on the floor and reaches out for mine, but I tease him by pulling it back at the last second.

"Jerk," he says, laughing again. I step forward and wrap my arms around him, letting myself touch the warm skin at his lower back that I had fantasized about just a few hours ago. He rests his head against my shoulder, his lips pressed to my neck.

It's heaven.

We break apart when his phone rings though, a DD song blaring at us through the thin fabric of his backpack. Edward dives for it, forgetting about his shirt, and answers it just as the ringtone starts over.

"Mom?" he says.

I sit on the bed and bite my lip, watching Edward as he listens to his mother.

He's frowning now, and nodding his head slowly. "I'm at a friend's house... yeah, the kid I went to the concert with."

Suddenly, a huge, happy smile spreads over Edward's face. "I don't know, let me ask," he says, turning to me. "Jasper, do you think your mom would mind if I spent the night? My parents are at a party across the sound and want to stay the night there."

"Yeah, she won't mind," I tell him, raising my voice just enough that the phone will pick it up.

Edward talks to his mother for another minute or two, and I think about my own mom-no way would she let me stay at a house she's never seen, with someone she's never met. Sometimes it seems overprotective, but the fact that Edward's mom doesn't care at all makes me kind of sad for him. I make a mental note to be a little nicer to my mom when she gets back.

Later, after we've eaten most of the food my mom left for the weekend and watched two hours worth of Double Down concert videos, Edward and I climb into my bed.

Only when it's dark and his face is inches from mine, lying on his own pillow, does he bring up the conversation that started it all.

"You asked me if I think about boyfriends," he whispers.

"Yeah?"

"I do. I think about you, being my boyfriend," he admits. He clears his throat and reaches for my hand under the covers. "If you want to be?"

I lace my fingers through his and squeeze his hand, sighing contentedly.

"I'm glad you're brave enough to say it, Edward. That's what I've wanted for a long time."

* * *

><p><strong>Happy New Year, Everyone. Thanks to everyone who reads and reviews my little one-(and two- and three-) shots, which is about all I have time to write these days. It means more to me than you'll ever know.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**You guys. **

**Thank you so much for the sweet things you had to say about these boys.**

**Thanks to donnersun for the pre-read. **

* * *

><p>"Hey Ma." I kiss Mom's cheek and she stands up on her tiptoes to hug me.<p>

"How was school?" she asks, stirring a big pot of chili on the stove.

"Fine. Is that Uncle Charlie's car in the driveway or did the cops finally find your meth lab?"

"Hilarious," she says, elbowing me out of the way as she reaches for a jar of brown sugar. "Yes, he's in the basement looking at the furnace. It was making that noise again last night. So are you going to tell me about school, or was the entire six hour day just 'fine'?"

"I have homework." I grab a handful of cookies and kiss her cheek again before backing out of the room.

"Homework, huh? Tell Edward I say 'Hi,' okay? Dinner at six!" she calls, her voice getting louder as I get further down the hall.

It's been a little over a week since Edward and I went from very best friends to boyfriends. He spent the night at my house that Friday, and it was the best night of my life so far. I kept waking up in the night because I wasn't used to sleeping with someone, but every time I woke up I'd go back to sleep with a smile on my face. Edward is a cuddler.

We made out a little bit in the morning, but Peter was banging around the house and making a lot of noise-I think it made both of us a little nervous. Edward spent most of the morning with me until his mom called and told him he had to go home.

Peter, the prick, ratted me out to Mom the second she got home.

"Jasper's little boyfriend spent the night," he said, taking her overnight bag from her as she stepped inside on Sunday.

She didn't really seem surprised.

I did get the beginning of another safe sex lecture after school on Monday. I cut her off this time, though-it's so much more embarrassing to discuss doing those things with someone _specific._

Mom seems okay with it, though, as far as I can tell. She wants me to invite Edward over for dinner, but he's been grounded all week. His dad found the bookmarks he left on his computer-for PFLAG and John Shore's website-and flipped out a little. They're just being jerks-they won't even try to listen to him.

We talk on the phone every day after school, though, and we Skype at night. It's not as good as kissing him or feeling his warm body pressed up against mine, but it's okay for now.

* * *

><p>Edward really does have homework today, so we only talk for a few minutes. I did most of mine in study hall, so I kick back and kill some zombies on my XBox.<p>

I'm right at the part where the zombies come crawling up out of the sewer when there's a knock on my door.

"Come in!"

"Hey, kid. Busy?" Uncle Charlie asks, poking his head in.

"Nah, just playing XBox." I wave him in, and he steps inside awkwardly and closes the door behind him. He shuffles from one foot to the other for a minute, hovering in front of my bedroom door. "Everything okay?"

"Mmhmm," he says, smoothing his moustache down with his left hand.

I'm dying, so I reset the game. "Wanna play?" I ask, holding up my extra controller.

"Sounds good." He nods and sits down on the bed next to me, taking the controller. I put in a racing game that we've played before, and we sit in silence for a few minutes just speeding around some city in our respective sports cars.

After a while, Charlie reaches for the remote and turns the volume up a little.

"Your mom says you got a boyfriend. She sent me in here to give you some 'words of wisdom' and see if you had any questions," he says, eyes still locked on the screen in front of us.

I groan and my thumb slips off the controller for a second. My mom thinks that because Uncle Charlie is gay, he should be my mentor or something. After I came out to her last year, she was always inviting him over for dinner and trying to get us to talk. He's cool and all, but neither one of us is really big on talking.

"Yeah?" I ask, maneuvering to try to make up the seconds I lost when my thumb slipped.

"So we're just gonna play this game for a while, and then when we go out there for dinner, you're gonna say 'Thanks, Charlie.' Got it?" he says, wincing as I slam into the side of his car. I let out a deep breath, relieved that he's not going to try to have some kind of awkward sex talk with me.

"Cool, thanks."

We start a new race, and a few minutes go by before he says anything else.

"Unless you got anything you want to ask me about? Cause you can. Ask. If you need to," he offers, shrugging it off.

"No, I'm good," I assure him.

"Alright," he says. I love Uncle Charlie. Mom never stops pushing for information. I know she does it out of love, but some shit you just don't want to talk about with your mom.

We go a few more rounds, and I even let him beat me once. When mom yells out that dinner's ready, we both stand up and stretch.

Uncle Charlie stops me just as I reach out to open the door.

"Kid, there is one thing I want to say."

"Yeah?" I ask. He clears his throat awkwardly and looks down at the doorknob.

"Just that, uh, I'm real proud of you. Always have been. Took me a long time to get comfortable being myself... a long time. Just, you know, keep it up. Don't let anyone push you around."

I have to swallow really hard against the lump in my throat.

"Thanks," is all I can really say. Charlie claps me on the back and opens the door, stepping out into the hall ahead of me.

* * *

><p>Edward's sentence is lifted on Friday.<p>

I meet him at the bus stop after school.

If I thought it was hard to keep my hands to myself before, it's even worse now.

"Hey," he says, standing dangerously close.

"Hey." His peacoat is hanging open, and I make sure no one's looking before I slip my hand inside and rest it on his waist.

We stand like that for a minute, our breath turning to fog in the cold air, before Edward pulls away.

Mom's home when we get to my house-she teaches Kindergarten so she's around a lot in the afternoons. She kisses me again, even though I came home before I went to pick up Edward. She kisses him too, and pulls him in for a long hug.

"I missed your face, Ed," she says, kissing his temple before she lets him go.

Poor Edward is blushing hard, but grinning like a fool. He follows my mom into the kitchen and asks about her weekend retreat. I've heard all of her stories already, so I watch Edward as he talks to her. He's so preppy in his light blue Lacoste and his khakis-I love it. He looks good today, really good.

When Mom starts talking about her sunrise yoga classes, I have to step in. "Mom, Edward's gonna help me with my math homework."

"Oh, right. Well you boys get to work, I have some papers to grade," she says waving us off. "You're staying for dinner, right, Edward?"

"That would be great, thanks."

"C'mon," I urge him, tugging at his backpack until he turns to follow me. As we walk further down the hall, my heartbeat starts racing in anticipation of being alone with Edward.

I hold the door open for him while he steps inside, and then close it gingerly.

Finally alone, we stare at each other again, just like we did at the bus stop.

Only this time, when I reach out a tentative hand and rest it on Edward's waist, he sighs happily and steps closer to me.

"I missed you," he says, wrapping his arms around my waist. I bury my face in his neck and breathe him in, all spicy cinnamon and wintry smelling.

"Me too." His skin is so soft and right _there_, and I can't stop myself from kissing his neck. He shudders and holds me tighter, fingers twisting in the fabric of my t-shirt.

I kiss up the side of his throat, little soft kisses with my lips closed, until I reach the slight stubble at his jaw. Edward tilts his head until his lips find mine.

It's pretty innocent at first, just pressing our lips together over and over, until Edward's mouth softens. I suck his bottom lip between mine and feel his tongue, soft and wet, swipe my upper lip tentatively.

He moans and it lights me up. I push him backwards against my door and take control, kissing him hard and sucking his tongue into my mouth. He squirms and hums and his hands travel up and down over my back, pulling me impossibly closer.

It's so good. It's so _much_. All I want to do is kiss him like this for hours, for days, for the rest of my life.

But at the same time, it's not enough. Already I want more. Already I want his hands on my skin, his lips on my neck, his clothes on the floor and his body in my bed.

"Jasper," he gasps, pulling away and gasping for breath. I can't _stop_ kissing him, that just seems ridiculous, so I drop back down to his neck. This time my kisses aren't so soft, and I part my lips and suck and nip at his skin. "Oh, fuck. Jasper... Jasper... Jasper..."

"Jasper?" my mother's voice calls, echoing in the hallway outside the door.

We pull apart as her footsteps get closer, moving lightning fast to sit on the edge of my bed. I almost have my math book out of my bag when she knocks.

"Honey?"

I take a few extra seconds to open my textbook and hold it over my lap to cover my hard-on. I hand Edward my notebook and he does the same.

"Yeah, mom?" I ask, hoping the wait wasn't too conspicuously long.

She nudges the door open as she's knocking. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah, mom, it's fine."

She stands in the threshold, holding her purse in one hand and her car keys in the other.

"How's the homework coming, boys?"

"It's fine," I shrug, noticing with a panic that Edward is holding my notebook upside down. I hope she doesn't notice, too.

"I'm gonna run up to the store and pick up something for dinner-chicken sound good, boys?"

"Sure," I tell her, my racing heart starting to calm.

"That would be great," Edward says.

"Want me to pick anything up while I'm gone?" she asks. We both shake our heads and she adds, "I'll be back in half an hour."

Neither of us says a word after she closes the door. We listen to her footsteps instead, to the sound of the front door opening and closing, to the rumbly engine of her old Volkswagen.

As the sound of the engine fades away, Edward turns to me. His smile is small and shy.

"Half an hour," he says.

"Let's hope there's traffic." I toss my math book to the floor and launch myself at Edward, pushing him down into the bed. He laughs and wiggles beneath me, pulling my slightly crumpled notebook out from between us and tossing it aside.

There's no slow build-up this time. It's all hot mouths and grabbing, desperate hands, and my leg slipping between Edward's as we move around, trying to get comfortable. He drags the back of my shirt up as his hand slips underneath, making me shiver.

"Is that okay?" he whispers, his lips still touching mine.

"Feels good." I can't help but tremble again when he slides another hand under my shirt. He's gentle at first, just smoothing his palms over my skin, but the more we kiss the bolder Edward gets. He's clutching my lower back and digging his fingers into my shoulder blades, bucking up against my thigh and kissing me passionately. Every time he moves my dick rubs against his leg and I'm harder than I've ever been.

I drop my lips down to his neck and kiss him there, swiping my tongue against his salty skin, and Edward moves his hands to my waist. He clings to me and pulls me down hard against him as he thrusts up, grinding himself against my thigh. I leave a trail of wet kisses across his throat, stopping to suck on his Adam's apple and scrape my teeth against it. He starts whimpering and his fingers dig in to my waist.

"You taste so good," I whisper, nipping at his ear. "I love feeling how hard you are."

Edward shudders and his whole body seems to tense, to curl up against me, and then he says my name like no one's ever said it before in my life. "Oh! Jasper..." he says, in a long, sexy moan. "I'm coming!"

He's shaking and twitching beneath me, holding onto me so tight it hurts, and I try to keep moving with him so it feels really good. I want him to keep saying my name, just like that.

"Oh, God," he says, his grip finally loosening. His hands smooth up my back sweetly and he cups the back of my head, bringing me back to his lips for another kiss. He's stopped moving and I've lost the friction on my hard-on, so I start grinding against him a little. He pulls away, though, and hisses.

"Too much," he says, urging me off him.

His pants have a wet spot in the front. It's unbelievably hot. I groan in frustration and fall back onto the bed, reaching down to grab my cock through my jeans.

"Yeah," Edward whispers, turning onto his side to face me. He rests his hand on my stomach and glances at my alarm clock before looking back at me. "Take it out."

There's no fucking way I'm going to say no to that, so I'm quick to unbutton my jeans and push them down enough to pull out my cock. I'm not shy about it this time, remembering the way Edward watched me before.

"God, you're so hard," he says, scooting closer. Our heads are resting on the same pillow, his hand is so close to mine where I'm stroking myself. "Looks so good."

"You made it this way. You're so sexy when you come." I groan as Edward's hand sneaks lower, over my abdomen, and his fingers brush mine.

"Can I?"

"Fuck, yeah," I let him take over, biting down hard on my lip when his hand touches my dick for the first time. It feels so good, so soft, so different from the way I touch myself. No one's ever touched me like this, and I'm so close already that I'm _sure _I'm going to come right now.

"A little harder? _Please_," I whine, desperate to get off. He tightens his grip and moves faster, his breath hot in my ear. "I need to..."

"Yeah, do it," he says.

If I weren't so utterly happy and completely, out-of-my-mind horny, I would be embarrassed at the sounds I make when I come for him. I sound like I'm crying, and when I say his name my voice goes all high-pitched and whiny. But he likes it. He's grinning ear to ear.

"Wow, Jasper," he says, lifting his shiny, jizz-covered hand and reaching for a tissue from my nightstand.

"Yeah, Jesus." I laugh and accept a second tissue when Edward hands it to me, using it to clean up my junk a little. I pull my underwear back up and he cuddles into my side, sighing happily.

I open my mouth to tell him how perfect this feels, how I could stay like this forever, but then we hear my mom's car pulling into the driveway.

Edward bolts upright and looks down at his crotch. "Oh crap. My pants!"

I try not to laugh as I leap up and start pulling drawers open, looking for some khakis for him to borrow. Hopefully my mom won't notice that he's wearing different pants when we sit down for dinner.

* * *

><p>She doesn't notice.<p>

At least, she hasn't said anything about it.

She asks about Edward's private school, about his parents, about his older sister Alice and how she likes college.

I don't talk much, but I'm okay with that. I'm glad Edward gets along with my family. I'm sort of daydreaming about kissing Edward some more and not paying attention to the conversation, but Edward brings me back to it by kicking me under the table.

"I just think it would be nice to meet them, honey. It doesn't have to be a big production. I'll make a lasagna or something," Mom says. Edward is glaring at me, his eyes wide, but I have no idea what's happening.

"Meet who, Ma?"

"Ed's parents," she says, cutting into her meatloaf, oblivious to the panicked stare Edward is giving me.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I tell her, and she finally looks up at both of us.

"Why not?"

I look to Edward, not sure how to explain, and he looks down at his plate, embarrassed.

"His parents aren't cool, Mom," I tell her. I shake my head, hoping she'll just drop the subject, but of course she presses for more information.

"Well nobody's parents are _cool_, honey."

"Mom, you don't get it. Just drop it."

"I'm not going to drop it, Jay. I don't see what the big deal is, I just want to meet these people and let them know I'm not a crazy person holding their son hostage."

"They don't care," Edward says, rearranging his silverware.

"What, honey?" Mom asks.

"They don't care. Where I am. They never ask or anything, they don't mind. It's okay. They don't need to meet you."

Mom's expression softens when she takes in Edward's slumped shoulders and small voice.

"Well sure they _care_, sweetie," she says, reaching across the table for Edward's hand. He lifts his head and looks her in the eye.

"No, really," he says. "They don't."

Mom drops the subject at dinner, although I'm sure I haven't heard the last of it. And later, instead of taking the bus home, she insists on driving Edward herself. I sit in the backseat with him, holding his hand on the drive across town.

When we turn onto his street, he pulls his hand away.

When Mom pulls into his driveway and shifts the car into park, she turns around and frowns. "This one? There are no lights on."

"Yeah, here. Thanks for the ride," he says to her, before turning to me. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." I reach out for his hand and lean forward, but Edward scoots over and flings the door open fast.

"Goodnight," he says, biting his lip.

Mom waits, watching Edward to make sure he gets inside safely before putting the car in reverse.

It feels weird, sitting in the backseat by myself while she drives. Like I'm a little kid again.

"He's a good boy," she says, as we turn off of Edward's street.

"His parents are assholes, Mom. They hate that he's gay. They keep thinking they can talk him out of it."

She sighs sadly.

"Well we're just going to have to love him even more then, aren't we?"

* * *

><p><strong>Let me know what you think, please? Reviews make Edward jizz in his pants.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Once again, thanks for all the lovely reviews. I don't really have time to respond individually anymore, but I love reading every single one. I'll try to respond if you ask a question. As for EPOV: I don't know. We'll see what comes up. I don't like to switch back and forth, but maybe a one-off?**

**Thanks to donnersun for the hand-holding and theladyingrey for the proofreading. **

* * *

><p>"How is it?" I ask nervously, watching Edward twirl spaghetti around his fork.<p>

"Really good." He smiles, reaching for more parmesan cheese.

My mom is visiting Aunt Becca in Portland. Peter's supposed to be here watching me, but he's spending the night with his new girlfriend. He made me swear on my life not to burn down the house or cause any trouble, but he didn't say that Edward couldn't come over. Or spend the night.

I thought it would be romantic to make dinner, but I'm not so great at cooking. I made spaghetti with garlic bread, but I burned the garlic bread. Edward doesn't seem to mind, though, he's pretty happy that I cooked at all.

"Do you want to watch Donnie Darko?" he asks, as we're piling the dirty dishes up in the sink. "I brought it with me."

"Yeah, okay." I know it's Edward's favorite movie, but I've never seen it before.

We end up on the couch-I sit on the end and Edward sits next to me, cross-legged, on the middle cushion. At first.

Gradually, over the course of the movie, he shifts a little closer.

He reaches across me to grab the remote control from the end table, and without thinking, I sling my arm around his shoulders. I keep him close to me.

He swallows hard and shifts a little more, so he's comfortable. He pauses the movie and starts pointing out something about rabbits or something. I try to listen, but all I can think about is the way he always smells a little bit like cinnamon.

"Oh, and that song? The one that played at the beginning? That was by Echo and the Bunnymen. More bunnies. Crazy, right?" he says, pushing play on the remote to start the movie again. He puts the remote down and rests his hand on my thigh, snuggling closer.

"Crazy." I press my lips to his temple. Best night ever.

* * *

><p>When the movie's over, Edward sits up on his knees excitedly, explaining what I've just seen.<p>

I can't say I get it completely, but he's really cute like this, eyes bright and hands gesturing wildly.

"Isn't it _amazing?_" he asks, finally.

"It's amazing." _You're amazing._ I wrap my hand around his waist and squeeze, pulling him closer.

"Did you love it?"

"I loved it," I tell him. _I love you._ I tug on his leg so he lifts it and straddles my lap.

"Want me to shut up about the movie now?" he says, grinning.

"No, you can keep talking." I pull the collar of his polo shirt to the side and kiss his collarbone, then drag my lips up to his neck.

"I'll shut up," he breathes, cupping my face in his hands. He tilts my head up and we kiss, slow and sweet.

I let my hands roam a little more than they have before, up under his polo shirt. His stomach is flat, but his chest is a little more defined. I brush my thumbs over his nipples and his whole body quakes.

"Good?" I ask.

"Yeah, you just surprised me." He puts his hands over mine through the thin layer of material and I do it again, watching him gasp and shiver all over again.

"Take it off?" I mean to ask a question, but it comes out more like a command. Edward only hesitates for a second before lifting his shirt from the hem and pulling it over his head.

"I've been trying to gain weight," he mumbles, looking self-conscious.

"You're perfect." I kiss down over his chest, skipping his little patch of chest hair and going straight to his pecs.

"I'm too skinny."

"I'm skinny, too."

"Jas? Take off your shirt?"

He leans back a little so I can tug my Double Down t-shirt up and toss it aside. He touches me the same way I touched him, and I realize why he felt so nervous. It's hard being so exposed to someone, letting them see your flaws and the things you obsess over.

"C'mere," I whisper, wrapping one arm around his shoulders to pull him back to me. He locks his arms around my neck and it's... it's completely overwhelming.

So much skin, warm and smooth and pressed up against my own bare chest.

We kiss for a long time, listening to the music on the DVD loop over and over again. Gradually I slide down lower on the couch until our hips line up just right and I can feel Edward's hard-on against mine. He's moving really slow, dragging out each thrust of his hips against mine. It's killing me.

"Wanna go to my room?"

"Yeah," he whispers, biting my neck playfully before he climbs backwards off the couch. I slap his ass before I stand up and he yelps in surprise. His hands fly to his mouth and he looks guilty for a second, but then he seems to remember that we're all alone. "C'mon," he says, grabbing my hand to pull me behind him.

We close my bedroom door, just in case, and Edward tugs me over to the bed. He starts to sit, but I hook my fingers through his belt loops and hold him close to me.

"Do you want to take these off too?" I ask, heart pounding.

He doesn't answer, just hooks his fingers through my belt loops and cocks one eyebrow. I nod, my forehead bumping his a little, and reach for the button on my jeans.

I peek at Edward to see if he's taking his underwear off-he leaves them on, so I leave mine on, too.

After I kick off my jeans, I push Edward back and laugh as he bounces. He crawls backwards, scooting up to the head of the bed, and I climb up on my hands and knees and follow him.

We're practically naked.

He has skinny legs like me. I kiss his shins, his knees, and the tops of his thighs before I get a little freaked out at the path I'm taking. I hope he's not disappointed when I crawl on top of him and kiss him on the lips again.

The last time we made out in my bed like this, we had to hurry. This time we take things a little slower, taking turns rolling around and being on top. Edward is bold, wedging my legs apart with his knee and lying between them. His dick and mine rub right up against each other through our underwear, and he's just so fucking _hard_ that it makes me crazy.

I'm shameless, wrapping one leg around his body to hold him close to me and lifting my hips to meet his. I just want so _much_ from him that I feel out of control-I don't know how to kiss him everywhere, touch him everywhere, and still keep his warm weight on my dick.

"Edward, fuck, you feel so good. I can't fucking take it," I tell him, letting my hand slip under the waistband of his boxers just a little. His ass is the softest part of him, and he moans when I squeeze him there. It makes him hump me a little harder, so I do it over and over again.

When things seem like they're spiraling out of control, I push up on Edward's chest and drop my leg back down to the bed.

"Slow down." I'm panting and so is Edward, but he looks worried now. He rolls to his side and reaches down to hold my hand.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"God, no," I promise him, tilting my head up to kiss him. "It was too fast, and um... I want to watch you come. I didn't get to see you last time."

He smiles.

"Yeah, but I got to see you," he whispers, pressing his lips up against my ear. "And I've thought about it every night since then. That's what I think about when I jerk off."

"Fuck, Edward. Me too." I sit up on my knees next to him and press a palm flat against his stomach. "Can I take off your boxers?"

"Yeah," he says, covering my hand with his for just a second.

I figure he's probably nervous, so I stand up and take my underwear off first. It feels a little awkward with my hard-on bobbing around in front of me, but Edward licks his lips and moans when he sees it. I get over the awkwardness really fast.

I pull his boxers down and throw them behind me somewhere. This time when I kneel next to him, we're both naked. Nothing to hide.

I lightly touch the skin I've never seen before, his thighs and hipbones, working up the courage to touch him where I really want to.

"Jas, kiss me?" he asks, reaching down to wrap his fingers around my wrist. It's only then that I notice how much he's shaking, how tense he is. I grab my blanket and pull it over us as I curl up at his side.

"Want to slow down?" I ask, even though that's the last thing that I want.

"I like it better when you're kissing me," he says, threading his fingers through my hair.

So I kiss him.

Over and over, I tease him and taste his lips, his neck, his chest. Staying close under the blanket, I keep our bodies pressed together as much as I can.

When I trace little circles on his abdomen, right above where he's hard and sticky and waiting for me, he laughs and pushes my hand down further.

"Yesssssss." He draws in a sharp breath when I wrap my fingers around his dick. I pull the blanket back with my free hand, desperate to see what I'm doing to him.

"God, you're so hard." I flick my thumb over the head peeking out of his foreskin, and he moans. I press down a little harder and he squirms, hissing a little, and I back off. I think back to the way he touched himself and try to do the same things, gliding his foreskin up and down over his shaft. He must be awfully close already because his fingers are scrambling for something to grip, twisting in the bedsheets as his hips buck up into my hand.

I reach down with my free hand and cup his balls tentatively, weighing them in my hand as I jerk him faster and faster. He explodes as soon as I give them a gentle squeeze, cum shooting out of him in thick ropes and covering his stomach.

He doesn't say anything, but his mouth is wide open and his eyes are squeezed shut the whole time.

It's unbearably fucking hot watching him come all over himself. As soon as he's spent, I let his dick fall against his belly and wrap my hand around my own. His cum is all over my hand and it feels so good, like the lotion I use sometimes but better because it's _Edward._

He's all blissed out, his head lolling back and forth on my pillow. When I start groaning as I get closer, though, he leans up on his elbows to watch.

I cup my free hand to catch my jizz, but Edward pulls it away.

"Come on me," he whispers, then grabs the back of my neck and pulls me close to kiss him again.

It's so hot, so _dirty_, but so right with Edward here in my bed. I let go and stroke my dick hard, panting as I come between us, all over Edward's stomach and chest.

My legs are shaking so bad that I can't hold myself up after I come.

I fall onto my back and look over at my boyfriend, sleepy and smiley and covered in jizz.

"Hi," he says.

"You're dirty," I tease, leaning over to kiss the tip of his nose. He blushes and looks down at the mess we made together.

"I guess so."

* * *

><p>Edward stays over Saturday night, too, but Peter is home and being obnoxious. He plays video games with us for a while and takes us out to dinner, though, so I can't really complain.<p>

The next week sucks, because Edward has exams and has a ton of studying to do. We barely get to talk on the phone and I don't see him at all, so I'm excited on Thursday afternoon when my phone lights up with his number.

"Hey, Sexy," I say, closing my bedroom door so my mom doesn't hear us.

"Jasper?" he says, choking out the word. He sounds scared and hoarse and he's sniffling like he's been crying. My whole body tenses in fear.

"What's wrong?"

"I... I got in a fight. After school." He's definitely crying.

"Where are you? Are you okay? Are you safe now?" I ask, panicked that he's still in danger.

"I'm at the hospital. The school nurse thinks my wrist might be broken."

"They broke your _wrist?" _My fist clenches as rage boils up inside me; I think about Peter and the baseball bat he keeps in his bedroom in case of a burglar. Edward and I have both had trouble with bullies; neither one of us is really out at school, but kids will torture the shit out of anyone at they show even the slightest sign of beng different.

"I fell. This kid James punched me and I fell and hurt my wrist. Then he..."

"What, Ed?" I prompt him when his voice gets too small for me to hear.

"He kicked me in the stomach."

"That's such bullshit," I tell him, gripping my own wrist, wishing I could feel the pain instead of Edward. "Are your parents there?"

"Dad's in L.A. They called Mom, but..."

"But what?"

"She told me last night she has meetings all day. I don't know if she got the message or not."

"Is anyone there with you?" I ask, stuffing my feet into my sneakers. I fling the door open and stumble down the hall and into the kitchen, where Mom's grading papers.

"The school nurse is here, somewhere," he says. "Right now I'm in a room by myself, and the doctor hasn't even been in here yet, and it hurts so..."

I hold the phone while Edward talks, and tap my mom on the shoulder to get her attention. I grab her hand and pull her up from her chair, trying to pull her down the hall.

"Jasper, what the hell is going on?" she hisses. I grab her coat and hand it to her, then pick up her purse and shove it into her other hand.

"It's Edward," I mouth. "He's in the hospital."

She looks terrified, so I point to my wrist. "Broken."

Mom nods sadly and steps into her boots while I shrug my coat on. Edward is telling me about the nurses at the hospital and I don't want to interrupt him.

"Edward?" I ask, when he pauses to take a deep breath. "Which hospital?"

"Children's."

"I'm coming. We're coming. It's gonna be okay," I promise, slamming the front door behind me as Mom and I walk out to the car.

* * *

><p>"Just park <em>anywhere<em>, Mom!" I growl, tugging at my shaggy hair in frustration. "Or let me out here."

"Calm down, honey. I know you're worried, but he's okay." She pats my leg reassuringly, but I push her hand away.

"He's not _okay_, Mom. You didn't hear the way he sounded on the phone. He's scared." I'm practically ripping my hair out, but calm down a little when Mom finally parks the car.

"I know, Sweetie," she says. "Come on, let's go."

I want to sprint ahead of her and run into the main entrance, but that would be pretty shitty after she's driven me all the way over here to see him.

When we make it inside, Mom heads over to the check-in desk. She tells them that she's Edward's aunt, which is kind of creepy, but he told me on the phone that only family could visit. We're given temporary ID stickers and instructions to follow the green arrows on the floor.

It takes us forever to find him, and I feel like I'm going to throw up from the hospital smells and my nerves. We finally reach a little room with the right number, and Mom checks the name on the chart to be sure.

I knock on the door, and my breath catches when I hear him answer, "Come in."

He looks so small sitting on the hospital bed.

As soon as I'm clear of the door I stalk towards him, throwing my arms around him and holding him close to my chest.

He's not crying anymore, but his eyes are red. His lip is cut and bruised and he has a scrape on his cheek.

I cup his face in my hands and gently kiss the side of his mouth that isn't hurt.

"Are you really okay?" I ask.

"Yeah. I just had an X-ray, I'm waiting for them to come back and put it in a cast."

I reach down to hold his good hand, but Mom nudges me out of the way so she can hug Edward, too. "Poor thing," she says, stroking his hair. I can see tears well up in his eyes, and he lets himself crumple against her a little before he takes a deep, centering breath.

* * *

><p>We sit with Edward for almost two hours.<p>

I hold his right hand while they put a cast on his left. The girl wrapping his arm grins when I rub Edward's back in soothing circles, and I smile back at her, glad she's cool. I even kiss his cheek while she's working, but she doesn't bat an eye.

The attending doctor comes by the room and asks Mom if she's Edward's mother.

"No, but I can pass along information to her," she says simply. The doctor seems bored, giving her some details about Edward's fracture. The school nurse seems to have disappeared completely, and I have to wonder what the fuck would have happened if we hadn't shown up-who would be taking care of him?

Someone else, a hospital nurse, shows up to give Edward some instructions for taking care of the cast. Mom has her arm slung over his shoulders protectively, nodding and listening to the nurse, and I'm holding his hand again.

We all freeze when the door bursts open and a tall, elegant woman in a fancy winter coat comes sweeping into the room.

She stops short, takes us all in, and then raises an eyebrow.

"Edward?" she asks, eyes wide with shock. He squeezes my hand before he answers.

"Hey, Mom."

* * *

><p><strong>Updates probably won't be as frequent moving forward as I have to work during the week, just a heads up.<strong>

**Please leave a review and let me know what you think, but cut me some slack if I got any of the medical stuff wrong. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Do you remember my last A/N, where I said I didn't think I was going to do any EPOV?**

**Yeah.**

**This is all EPOV. It just sort of had to be.**

**Thanks to all who reviewed and tweeted me about the story! Thanks also to donnersun, SingleStrand, and fr333bird, who held my hand through several re-writes.**

* * *

><p><strong>Edward<strong>

Sometimes, you just want your mom.

Jasper is here being so sweet to me, holding my hand and kissing my cheek, and his mom, Char, has been really nice to me. She's comforting and soft, and she smells like spearmint gum and the lemon-scented hand lotion she puts on all the time. I'm really glad she's here.

But she's not _my _mom. She's not the person who read all of _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_ out loud the week I had pneumonia in elementary school. She's not the person who (still) makes a special, top-secret fizzy drink for me anytime my tummy hurts. She doesn't smell like Chanel No. 5, or know how to make Grandma Cullen's super-soft brown sugar cookies, or understand why the words "waffle iron" make everyone in my family burst into laughter.

She's not my mom.

So when my actual mother bursts into the door of the little hospital room, I'm all torn up. Part of me feels like I can finally relax, like everything's okay now, because my mom is here. At the same time, though, I'm worried that she's going to start asking questions about Jasper.

Shit. Jasper's holding my hand. I will myself to let it go, but my body doesn't respond-it only holds him tighter. He must interpret the squeeze as something else, though, because he pulls his hand free and shoves it into his pocket. Mom's eyes flicker down for just a second, and I'm sure she noticed. I know she did.

"Sweetheart, what happened?" Mom asks, ignoring the Whitlocks and stepping right up to the edge of my hospital bed. She combs my hair back with her fingers like she used to when I was little, and I take a shaky breath, praying I won't cry again.

"I fell..." I hold up my encased wrist.

"Darling," she says skeptically. My lip quivers at the tone in her voice-the pitying, let-me-make-it-better tone that I heard after so many bicycle crashes, skateboard accidents, and other boyhood scrapes and bruises. She lifts an eyebrow in question, bringing her palm-still freezing cold from the air outside-up to cup my cheek.

"Um, after James Cutler punched me."

"Oh, Edward," she breathes, shaking her head sadly. "I told you not to provoke that boy, he's-"

"I didn't provoke him, Mom," I insist. "I was just walking to the bus stop, and he pushed me the second I was off school property, and then he punched me."

Jasper's getting pissed, I can tell. He's always pushing me me to confront my parents, call them out on their homophobia, to yell and scream and _force_ them to accept me. Jasper's family is different than mine, though. The Cullens don't yell. We don't confront. We don't talk about anything that makes us uncomfortable.

My parents love me. I know they do. They have to-people can't just stop loving their own kids. It's just taking them a while to wrap their brains around the fact that this isn't something I can change.

"...and Jessica was supposed to be checking my cell phone for messages but she _forgot_. She _forgot_, can you believe that? I'm so sorry I wasn't here, Sweetheart. But I'm glad you weren't alone?" she says expectantly, turning her attention to Char.

"We were glad to help," Char says, reaching out to shake Mom's hand. "I'm Charlotte Whitlock, Jasper's mother."

"Thank you so much for coming and taking care of Edward," Mom says, sounding relieved. She shakes Char's hand and then turns to Jasper, giving him a small smile. "And this must be the friend I've heard so much about."

She reaches for Jasper's hand, too, but he ignores her.

He hovers close by as the nurse takes over again, starting the care instructions over now that my mom is here. She pulls a worn little notebook out of her purse and scribbles down some notes, even though the nurse is giving us a ton of printed instructions, too.

When she's finished going over the instructions, the nurse gives Mom a ton of forms to sign. She sits in the hard plastic chair and starts scanning the forms, scratching her name across the bottom of each one.

"Do you still want to come over?" Jasper asks quietly, stepping closer to me now. "I know you can't play XBox for a while but we could watch those bootleg Double Down DVDs I got from Marc."

"I don't think that's a very good idea," Mom says, looking up and frowning at us. Jasper opens his mouth to challenge her but I cut him off.

"No, I just want to go home. I'm really tired, Jas," I tell him. He still looks like he's going to argue, but I shake my head minutely and plead with my eyes for him to let it go.

"Yeah," he says, after a long pause. "You should get some rest." He lifts his hand to tuck an unruly strand of hair behind his ear, and then he drops it down to rest on the bed next to me. He's watching Mom, waiting for her to look down, and when she does, he wraps his arm around my waist and squeezes hard.

It kills me not to hug him back.

"We should get going, Jay. It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Cullen," Char says, circling around to Jasper's side of the table.

"Esme, please," my mom clarifies, looking up from the forms to smile politely.

"Take care, Edward," Char tells me, giving me a quick, careful hug. "Come on, Jay."

She smiles and turns to leave, but Jasper backs out of the room, his eyes on me the whole time.

* * *

><p>My mom fusses over me when we get in the car, insisting on buckling my seatbelt for me and folding her scarf into a little pillow for my wrist.<p>

It's kind of nice.

She's quiet as she pulls out of the hospital parking lot, until we're on the road.

"I'm going to call the principal tomorrow about James. They need to have better supervision over those kids after school, I swear."

"We were off school property. I don't know what else they can do."

"Well they darn well better do _something_," she says. "And you need to be more careful, Edward. Don't go near that boy or any of his friends. Stay where the teachers can see you. And try not to provoke them."

"Mom, I told you, I didn't do anything! I was talking to Rosalie Hale about our project for art class, she turned and went towards the parking lot and I went the other way. As soon as I walked past the gates, James came at me out of nowhere." My good hand clenches as I remember how scary it was.

"I know. Just try not to ... attract too much attention," she says.

What she doesn't say is, "Don't act so queer," but I know that's what she's thinking. I'm not super flamboyant, but I've never been a tough guy either. I take art classes and run track, and guys like James take woodshop and play football. He's friends with all the other jocks, and I'm mostly friends with girls or quieter, nerdy guys. Every time I've ever gotten bullied or harassed at school, my mom says "Don't draw so much attention to yourself."

I used to try to act tougher, to make fun of the few kids at school that were lower than me in the pecking order. I even tried out for the basketball team, thinking that being a bench-warmer was better than being a nobody.

I was miserable all the time, though. I found Double Down my sophomore year and devoured all of their music-so many of the songs are about being true to yourself, growing up, and what it means to be a man. I gave up trying to impress idiots like James.

And then I met Jasper, and everything that had seemed so hard to live with, so impossible to get through, suddenly seemed a little less daunting. Finding someone who liked the real me made being myself a lot easier.

"Jasper seems like a nice boy," Mom says, interrupting my musing about him.

"He is." I'm glad he made a good impression, but I don't want her to ask too many questions just yet. Fortunately Dad calls just then, and Mom gets to rant about the school and the hospital for a while. I lean back against the headrest and close my eyes, remembering Jasper's arm around me just before he left the hospital.

* * *

><p>They gave me some pain medicine, but it's not really helping.<p>

My wrist is _throbbing_ and my head hurts, too. I managed to get most of my homework done and eat dinner with Mom, but I've been lying in bed trying to fall asleep since ten.

I text Jasper to see what he's up to, but he doesn't respond. For a minute I think about what we would be doing if the day had gone a little differently-if I had made it to Jasper's after school. We probably would have played video games and done our homework together, maybe made dinner with Jasper's mom. We probably would have burrowed under the covers in his bed and made out until we were both breathless and hard. And then...

I push a button on my phone to light it up and check the screen, in case Jasper texted me and I missed it.

It buzzes in my hand and scares the crap out of me.

_Aren't rich people supposed to have balconies or something?_

I'm not sure what he's talking about. Maybe the pain medicine is affecting my brain.

_Huh?_

_I'm on your back porch. I jumped the fence. Where's your room?_

Jasper is here?

At my house?

I bolt upright and check the time-it's after eleven, so my mom is probably passed out. Dad's a light sleeper, but he's still in LA and won't be back until tomorrow night.

_Stay right there_.

I tiptoe to my door and open it quietly before sneaking down the hall. We've lived in this house since I was two, so I know all the noisy spots-the creaky stair, the loose floorboard on the landing. I make it downstairs and past the master bedroom without making a sound.

The lock on the French doors is impossibly loud when I open it, but the door itself doesn't make a peep. I stick my head out into the cold night air and look around. "Jas?"

"Hey," he says, stepping into the light spilling out of the doorway.

I fling myself at him. It's kind of embarrassing, and it hurts my wrist when I wrap both arms around his neck, but he's _here_ and strong and solid, and I'm so happy to see him.

Jasper chuckles and wraps his arms around me tight, lifting me up off my feet and shuffling us back into the house. "It's cold," he whispers.

When I regain enough sense to let him go, I pull the door closed behind us and slowly, delicately push the lock back into place. My heart is pounding as I lead him through the house, my fingers wrapped tightly around his wrist. He steps on the creaky stair and we both freeze for a second, pausing to listen for movement in the house.

It seems safe, so I keep climbing, pulling him behind me. I keep a tight grip on his wrist until we reach my bedroom, tugging him inside and closing the door softly behind me. Jasper pulls his hand free from mine and reaches out to turn the lock.

"Hey," he whispers, stepping in close until I'm trapped between him and the door.

He kisses me before I can answer, but it's not a sexy, I-need-you kiss. It's really soft-he just brushes his soft, minty lips over mine. It's really, really nice.

"How'd you get here?" I'm grinning like a fool when he pulls away.

"Took the 'vette," he says, smiling sheepishly.

"Peter's gonna kill you!" His brother's been fixing up that car for three years-Jasper says it's only started to run decently in the last six months.

"Nah, I just have to be back before he gets home from work-he's going to his girlfriend's after, so he won't be home until twelve-thirty or one. It'll be fine."

"He'll kill you if anything happens to it."

Jasper shrugs. "I don't really care." He turns slowly, taking in every corner of my bedroom. I wish it was a little cleaner, but I take comfort in the fact that Jasper's room is never all that clean. I thought it would be nerve-wracking, having him here, but it feels nice and kind of comfortable.

"Take your coat off," I suggest, tugging at the sleeve. He shrugs out of his heavy Carhartt jacket and kicks his boots off, leaving them on the floor next to my closet. He pushes up the sleeves of his henley and then his eyes lock on my cast.

"How is it?"

"Not bad," I lie. Jasper smirks and sits down on my bed, dragging his fingers over the spines of the books on my nightstand.

"I broke my leg when I was nine. Peter dropped me out the second floor window. I mean, I dared him to, but Mom was still pissed..." My bed is pushed up against the wall, and he scoots over to the inside. "I remember getting a milkshake on the ride home from the hospital and having a navy blue cast."

He leans back against my headboard and nods towards the empty space next to him. I crawl up into bed and flop down on my back, staring up at Jasper sitting next to me.

"I didn't get a milkshake." I stick my lower lip out in a pout, and Jasper laughs.

"Sorry, I didn't bring one with me," he says, his laugh fading quietly. "How are you really?"

"I'm okay." I slip my good hand into his, and he slides down so his head is on my extra pillow.

"I was so worried about you," he admits, rolling to his side.

"Thanks for coming," I whisper. "To the hospital. And here."

"It's not a big deal."

"Jas, you stole a car!"

That earns another laugh-a low, sexy chuckle. "Not really. I _borrowed_ Peter's car. It'll be fine."

"Why'd you come?" I ask, walking two fingers up his bare forearm.

"To take care of you." He leans closer and kisses me softly, sweetly, avoiding my bruises. "I just needed to ... I don't know. Be around you, touch you. I was scared today, it sucked."

"I was scared too." I wrap my hand around his neck and kiss him again, holding him against me. I trace his bottom lip with my tongue, and he moans, wiggling a little closer until the front of his body is pressed against my side. "Mmm, this is helping, though," I tease.

We do our best to make out, but my sore lip makes it difficult to kiss him like I want to. We stick with softer, closed-lip kisses for the most part. It's nice, but it's not enough-it's so exciting having him here in my room, in my bed, that all I want is _more_.

Jasper is obviously horny; I can feel him getting hard against my hip, and his hand is rubbing figure eights up and down my side. Over my hip, up to my chest, and back down to my thigh, he makes slow, gentle circuits that are driving me crazy.

I lose myself a little and try to pull him on top of me, but I wince when I flex the fingers in my bad hand.

"Shhh." Jasper grasps my arm gently and pushes it down to my side. "Just relax."

At first it's hard not to move, not to _take_ like I want to so badly, but gradually, I relax. The warm weight of Jasper's body pressing against my side is comforting, familiar.

"Are you..." he asks, his voice trailing off as his cheeks fill with color. Instead of finishing his sentence he lays a palm flat over the front of my pajama pants, right over my dick.

"Oh, God," I whimper, shivering as he starts rubbing slowly over my erection.

"Yeah, you are." Jasper smiles as he moves down to kiss my neck. "I want to try something, okay? Just ... relax."

He scoots down a little and kisses my chest through my t-shirt and then down over my stomach. I watch him press his lips to the fabric and then slip his fingers underneath, dragging my shirt up. His lips follow his hand, going up, up, up-I try to enjoy it, but part of me is dying to watch him go the opposite direction.

I brush his hair back with my free hand so I can watch his face as he kisses my nipple. It feels good, but when he swipes his tongue out and flicks it, it feels _amazing._

"Jasper!" I gasp, my fingers tightening in his hair. He laughs and kisses my nipple again, then drags his lips across my chest to the other one. "I didn't ... oh, holy ... didn't know that would feel so good."

He hums against my chest and starts kissing down over my stomach again, sliding his body over mine as he goes lower and lower. His teeth scrape over my side as he nibbles and licks his way across my torso, and it's sharp and sexy and my dick is _so hard_ that I feel like I'm going to explode as soon as he touches me.

When his lips reach the waistband of my pajama pants, I take a deep, shaky breath. I'm not sure if he's just trying to get me worked up, or if he plans on doing what I desperately want him to do.

"I'm just gonna..." he says, hooking two fingers into the waistband of my pajama pants. He catches my boxers, too, and drags them both down slowly, kissing the exposed skin as he goes. I hiss when he lifts them up and over my dick, exposing it to the cold air, but Jasper is quick to wrap his fingers around me.

"Yes, yes, yes." I'm moaning and mumbling as he strokes me slowly, his face just inches away from where his hand is working. It feels awesome, and I'm totally okay with the fact that he's not kissing me there, but then-suddenly-he is.

Just a swipe of his tongue first, against the underside of my dick, but it's wet and warm and unlike anything I've ever felt before. It's so hard to stay quiet as he licks and kisses all over, exploring and tasting me.

"That's so hot," I whisper, lifting my head to watch as his tongue traces a circle around the head. The pain from my injuries is a fuzzy memory-right now, I can't imagine anything feels better than this.

Until Jasper sucks my tip into his mouth. Instead of just a flash of the soft heat of his tongue, I'm _enveloped _by his warm, wet mouth, and every nerve ending in my body catches fire. I want to cry when he pulls away and I'm exposed to the cool air again.

"Please," I rasp, meeting Jasper's eyes as he teases me with licks and kisses again.

"Was that good?" he asks, his voice a little higher than usual, like he's nervous.

"So good. Please, do it again?"

He does it again, and he goes even deeper, sucks me further into his mouth. I'm moaning too loud now, I know it, but I can't stop it. I was wrong, _this_ is the best feeling I could possibly imagine. I know there's nothing that could ever be better than feeling his mouth wrapped around me.

Until he starts moving. He wraps his hand around the base of my dick and slides his mouth over the rest, up and down. I thought it felt good before, but the _hot, wet, soft_ of his mouth and the _pressure_ of his lips moving over me is completely overwhelming. I barely get a chance to register what's happening, to lock in the mental image of Jasper's lips gliding over my cock, before my stomach clenches, and every muscle in my body goes tense. I barely have time to warn him.

"Jasper I can't ... please ... I'm coming, I'm coming," I sob, my fingers wound tightly in his hair. I hear him cough and sputter as the first spurt hits his throat, and then he's pulling off and finishing with his hand. He pulls it out of me, the best orgasm I've ever had, his cheek pressed against my thigh as he watches me pulse and twitch in his hand.

I'm embarrassed to feel tears welling up in my eyes as I come down from the high-I try to swipe at them with my good hand before Jasper notices.

"You okay?" he says, crawling back up to kiss my cheeks.

"Yeah," I whisper, feeling so small and exhausted now. "It's just been ... a crazy day, I guess."

"Yeah," Jasper says, settling in at my side again. I wrap my good arm around him and kiss his shoulder, and he slips his knee between mine. "I should probably go home, let you sleep."

"I wish you could stay," I pout. "I like waking up in the middle of the night with your elbow jammed into my side."

"Whatever, you kick me constantly while you're sleeping."

"Do not," I mumble.

"Do too." He kisses the tip of my nose and then brushes his lips softly over mine. "I have to go. I have to get Peter's car back."

He untangles his limbs from mine and crawls to the end of the bed to get out. When he stands up, I notice the bulge in his jeans and wince. I'm an awful boyfriend-I didn't even think about getting him off, too.

"Jas? Do you need, um... don't you want to...?" I'm staring right at his dick, and he follows my gaze down to the tent in his pants.

"I'm alright. You're all hurt and stuff, and I have to get back," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "I can always take a shower when I get home," he adds with a wink.

I'm not sure whether to feel rejected or relieved-it's already a struggle to keep my eyes open. I curl up on my side and watch Jasper step into his boots and tug them up over his calves. When he's bundled up again, he comes back to kneel on the edge of my bed.

"Will the door lock automatically? Behind me?" he asks, brushing a thumb over my bruised cheek.

"Yeah, but I can walk you out?" I offer weakly, hoping I won't have to get out of bed.

"No, you stay here. Go to sleep." He bends low and kisses me gently, still cautious of my injured lip. My eyelids are getting heavier, but I don't let them close until the last sliver of Jasper disappears as he closes my bedroom door. Then it's impossible to keep them open, and I drift off to sleep with a smile on my face.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thoughts? Likes? Dislikes? How do you feel about Edward's family now?**

**Apologies to fr333bird for the lack of shower wank. Soon, bb. Soon.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks to all who read and reviewed last time, and thanks to TwiSlash Unveiled and the Perv Pack's Smut Shack for the lovely write-ups.**

**It's been a while. Refresher: Edward and Jasper are boyfriends. Edward got pushed around at school and broke his wrist. Later that night, Jasper stole his brother's car, snuck into Edward's house to see him, and then, er... comforted him. With his mouth.**

**We're back to Jasper's POV here.**

* * *

><p>I cannot, under any circumstances, jerk off in Peter's 1967 Corvette.<p>

I have to keep telling myself that as I drive home from Edward's, but my dick is throbbing and not making it any easier. If I wasn't worried about Peter catching me with his car, or if Edward hadn't looked so fucking cute all curled up and sleepy after he came, I'd probably still be in bed with him.

Unfortunately, Edward needs his rest, and I need to avoid becoming a victim of fratricide, so I had to go. I try to focus on how utterly awesome it is to be driving this kickass car for once-Peter's only let me drive it once before, at twenty miles per hour, and just around our block.

When I get home, his piece of shit everyday car is nowhere to be seen, and I do a little fistpump in the driver's seat as I pull smoothly into the garage. I hop out and double check to make sure nothing looks amiss-just one smudge on the handle, which I wipe clean with my sleeve.

I'm feeling on top of the fucking world as I open the garage door and strut to the kitchen, blue balls forgotten. I open the fridge to grab a soda before I head up to take a shower, and that's when I notice him.

Peter, sitting on the kitchen counter, staring right at me.

"Hey little bro," he says, his voice low and calm. I grab a Coke and close the refrigerator door just as he turns on the light.

"Uhhh... hey, Pete." I'm desperately trying to calculate an excuse, and clinging to a thread of hope that he didn't hear the car's engine and would believe that I went on a late night bike ride.

"Anything you wanna confess?" His eyes narrow and I know that no amount of scrambling or lying will get me out of trouble this time.

"Shit, Peter. Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd notice."

"You didn't think I'd _notice?_ Like I don't know the exact mileage?" he scoffs. He hops down and I automatically back up, moving around the kitchen island as Peter stalks forward. I set my soda down on the counter, freeing up my hands for defensive measures.

Peter would never _really_ hurt me.

But I've had enough noogies and headlocks in my lifetime to know that I'm in for some trouble if I can't get away from him.

"I'm sorry. I fucked up," I tell him, holding my hands up in surrender. He gets a little closer, backs me up against the pantry, and I wince in anticipation of the headlock and the yelling I'm expecting.

My eyes flash open, though, when there's just a gentle punch to my bicep.

"Don't do it again, fuckwad," Peter says, his expression softening. He ruffles my hair affectionately, walks back to the island, and picks up my discarded soda.

My jaw drops. Peter once flicked my ear for fifteen minutes when I used his coffee mug, and now I steal the car he's been rebuilding from scratch for three years and I get nothing? This must be a trick, part of some master plan to get revenge. He's lulling me into a false sense of security, and then BAM! He'll booby trap my bedroom or something.

The hiss of the soda can opening breaks my train of thought, and I watch Peter lean casually against the counter where he was sitting before.

"Is he okay?"

"What?" I ask, still trying to figure out his angle.

"Eduardo. Is he alright? Mom told me about what happened," Peter clarifies.

"Yeah. Uhh, yeah, he's fine. I went to see him and he fell asleep so I left." I leave out the other details of our visit-Peter and I are close, but we aren't _that_ close.

"Good," he says, shuffling towards the hallway. He looks back at me, shakes his head, and adds, "You're lucky I like that kid."

"Thanks, Pete." I'm glad it's dark enough that he can't see me blushing, but it makes me really happy and sort of proud, knowing that my brother approves of my boyfriend. I have to remember to thank Edward for being cool and laughing at Peter's lame jokes-he saved my ass from what was sure to be an epic round of brotherly torture.

"G'night, Jay," Peter calls down the hall.

"G'night."

* * *

><p>The next day, I have my phone in my hand pretty much at all times.<p>

I text Edward when I wake up, when I'm on the bus to school, between classes, and at lunch. He keeps insisting that he's fine, that his wrist doesn't hurt that much, that he only stayed home from school because his mom offered to let him skip.

_I'm in English, we're watching some boring movie. What are you doing?_ I ask, typing stealthily on my phone so the teacher won't see. It's after lunch and half the kids are falling asleep anyway, I don't think he's paying much attention.

_I'm in my pajamas, eating Chinese food and watching _Archer_, _he replies.

That's when I stop worrying about him and start getting jealous.

_How's your wrist?_

_Not too bad. The pain pills are pretty good. Come over after school?_

I debate on how to answer, my fingers skimming the surface of my phone as I think of an answer. Of course I want to go see him, but I'm not sure if I'm ready to deal with more of Mrs. Cullen. She didn't seem as awful as I thought she would be when I met her at the hospital, but I'm still afraid of her stopping me from seeing Edward.

_Will you be alone?_ I text.

_Yeah, Mom went to work at noon. She's picking Dad up at the airport at five thirty so they won't be home until after six._

If I leave right after school and take the bus... shit, I won't get to Edward's house until almost four. That only leaves us two hours before his parents get home. Unacceptable.

_I'll be there at two,_ I text him, hurrying to send the message and put my phone away as the teacher flips the lights back on in the classroom.

* * *

><p>"You just <em>left<em>?" Edward says, shaking his head like he's dismayed. He's sprawled out on the couch in the Cullens' giant media room, and I'm sitting in a ridiculously oversized armchair.

"Well it's not like I stormed out of the building. I went to biology, pretended like I was gonna puke, and got a pass to go to the nurse."

"Aren't they gonna check on that? Like won't someone realize you didn't show up at the nurse's office?" he asks, skeptical.

"I doubt it. It's Friday. The teachers all want to get out of there as soon as possible." I shrug, not really concerned with school at this point. "You act like you're not even happy that I'm here," I tease, tossing a throw pillow at him.

"Hey, I'm injured!" He holds up his cast and sticks out his bottom lip, fake-pouting. I hold my hands up in surrender and Edward grins. "I'm happy that you're here."

I duck my head a little, hoping he won't see the heat spreading over my cheeks. I really was just teasing, but it's kinda nice to hear him say it.

"So... what do you wanna do?" I ask, lifting my head just enough to look Edward in the eye. He sits up and stretches his arms over his head casually. "We could, uh, watch a movie."

Edward stands and tugs his pajama pants up a little higher on his hips. He's got a shy smile on his face as he steps closer, but he doesn't say anything about my suggestion.

"We could listen to some music," I offer. Edward's smile gets a little wider as he comes closer.

"We could... uh..." I stumble, swallowing hard as Edward kneels on the chair I'm sitting in, straddling my legs. The chair reclines a little and he loses his balance, so I reach up and wrap my hands around his waist to steady him.

"We could fool around," he says, settling on my lap. He's sort of sitting on my thighs, close but not close _enough_.

"But you're injured," I tease, even as I try to pull him closer.

"Oh, yeah, you're right," he says. "We shouldn't."

He tries to back up and I hold him tighter. "No, maybe you're right. I mean, it might make you feel better."

"Yeah?" He stops fighting me and inches closer, wrapping his good hand around the back of my neck. He brushes his lips over mine, just a shivery, barely-there kiss. "You always make me feel better," he whispers.

I pull him forward roughly, so his hips are flush against mine, and part my lips as he kisses me deeply. His weight feels so good against me, warm and solid, and I push and pull with my hands to encourage him to move against me. It's slow at first, almost gentle, but my hands get a little more urgent when I feel him getting hard.

"Yeah," he groans, bracing himself against the back of the chair so he can grind down against me. He finds a good rhythm on his own and I slide my hands up under his t-shirt, smoothing over his ribs and around to his back. Every inch of skin is warm, almost hot, and he shivers as my fingers skate over his shoulder blades.

"You feel so good," I whisper between kisses.

Edward pulls back and I whimper, trying to hold him close. "Just-your jeans," he says, reaching down between us. He unbuttons my jeans and tugs the zipper down, brushing his knuckles against my erection.

"Jesus. Fuck," I breathe, looking down between us as Edward slips his hand beneath the waistband of my underwear and squeezes me once.

"Lift up," he says, sitting up on his knees. He tugs my jeans down awkwardly and pushes them to my knees. I try to lift my legs and kick them off all the way, but Edward fits his body back to mine and starts kissing me again, hotter and more desperate this time, and my jeans don't make it past my ankles. "Oh God, I can feel you now," he groans, grinding down against me.

I can feel him, too, his dick rock hard and rubbing against mine through the thin layers of fabric between us. My hands drop down to his ass and I pull him closer, urge him to move faster. I love the way his muscles tighten as he moves, the way he seems to push back against my hands when he isn't pushing forward against my cock.

"Jas," he whispers, kissing up my jaw to my earlobe. "Mmm."

His breath is warm against my ear as he moans and clutches at my neck and shoulder with his good hand. I try to slide my hands up to his lower back, but Edward whimpers in disapproval. I _need_ to feel more of his skin, so I slip both hands beneath the waistband of his pajama pants and cup his cheeks.

"I've been hard all day," Edward tells me, pausing between words to kiss my neck. "I woke up this morning thinking about what you did last night."

"Stealing Pete's car?" I ask, earning a low chuckle from Edward. I know what he's talking about, but I really, really want him to say it.

"No," he says, ducking his head so he can kiss my Adam's apple. "When you went down on me. It felt so good, Jasper. Did you... did you like doing it?"

He tucks his face into my shoulder as he asks, shy even though his hips are still grinding down against mine.

It's so easy to tell him the truth.

"Yeah, I liked it. I love making you cum, Edward, and you tasted so fucking good." I flex my fingers as I whisper to him, digging into his flesh. My left hand slips a little and my fingers brush the cleft between his cheeks.

His whole body shudders.

"Please," he moans, thrusting against me sharply. "Touch me there."

We haven't done anything like this, and to be honest I haven't even thought about it much. I've been so into Edward's dick, and Edward touching _my_ dick, that I haven't let my mind wander to the other stuff we could try.

Tentatively I sweep my fingers over his crack again, just brush them up and down so lightly, but it makes Edward go crazy. He bites down on my neck and moans against me, moving faster even though I'm gentle and cautious with my fingers.

When I get bolder and press two fingers a little deeper, brushing against his asshole, Edward falls apart.

"Oh my God!" he cries, his whole body stiffening against me. It's so sexy and totally overwhelming, feeling him collapse against me and shake and shudder. I hold him tight, pulling my hands out of his pants to stroke his back as he comes down from his high.

"You're amazing," he whispers, when his breathing comes back to normal. "So hot, Jasper. You're so sexy." He lifts himself up enough to work a hand between us, beneath my waistband, and strokes me roughly.

I want to reply, to tell him I feel the same way, but my brain isn't functioning properly with his hand on my dick.

"Fuck," is all I can manage.

"I want to try," he breathes, his lips so close to mine. "I want to taste you. I want to suck this," he says, squeezing the tip of my cock as he twists his hand over it.

The idea of Edward on his knees with his mouth wrapped around my dick is so hot that it's over before it can begin.

"Edward," I gasp, arching up against him as my cum spurts up and covers his hand.

When I'm spent, my head lolling back against the chair, Edward pulls his hand out of my pants and leans back, giggling.

"I guess I'll give you a raincheck."

* * *

><p>After we clean ourselves up in the downstairs bathroom, we collapse in the media room with a couple of bags of chips and some soda.<p>

Edward pulls me onto the couch with him and curls up against my side.

It's a really awesome afternoon. I even make a point to call my mom around the time school normally gets out and tell her that I'm spending the afternoon at Edward's house. Fortunately she doesn't answer and I can leave a vague voicemail-I try to avoid actually lying to her. I just omit the fact that I left school a tiny bit early.

When I put my cell phone away, I notice Edward frowning and cradling his cast, trying to flex his fingers. "Do you need to take some medicine?"

"Yeah," he says, covering a yawn with his hand. He starts to stand up, but I put my hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"I'll get it for you. Where is it?"

He opens his mouth to protest, but I'm already on my feet.

"Upstairs, in my room." I run upstairs and grab the orange bottle from his bedside table, happy that I can do something to take care of him. When I get back to the TV room he's yawning and stretching like a cat.

I pop open the bottle, hand Edward a pill, and then try not to pay too much attention to the swallowing motion of his throat as he washes it down with soda. "Thanks," he says, setting down his Coke. Instead of sitting next to me he lays down on the couch with his head in my lap. "They make me a little sleepy."

"Take a nap," I tell him, combing my fingers through his hair. "I'll wake you up when I have to leave."

"I don't have to," he says, his words already mumbled as he starts to drift off.

I turn the volume down on the TV and watch game shows, petting Edward's hair occasionally. Five o'clock, I tell myself. That's when I'll wake him. It will give me time to say goodbye and get to the bus before his parents are anywhere near this neighborhood. Five o'clock.

* * *

><p>"Edward? Edward, darling, we're home!"<p>

My eyes blink open and the first thing I see is the clock on the cable box. Six thirty.

Shit.

"Edward! Get up!" I hiss, shaking his shoulder roughly.

"Huh?" he says, startled awake.

"Get up! Your parents!"

"Shit," he says, scrambling to get up and off the couch. Disoriented, he looks around the room, tugging at his hair.

"Edward?" a man's voice calls, as heavy footsteps get closer and closer to the room we're in.

"In here, Dad!" Edward calls out, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch. He spins around, looking for somewhere to go, but finally settles on the armchair we were sitting in earlier. "We're watching TV!" he says, gesturing for me to turn up the volume.

"Hey," the man's voice says, and Edward's dad-tall, blonde, and just as handsome as Edward-walks around the corner. He pauses when he sees me and offers a more formal, "Hello."

"Dad, this is my friend Jasper. He came over after school to keep me company."

"Jasper," Dr. Cullen nods, and I give him a small wave in return. My heart is still pounding out of my chest as I think about how close he came to walking in on us sleeping together on the couch. "Let me take a look," he says to Edward, moving past me to sit on the armrest of Edward's chair.

Silently Edward holds out his wrist, letting his dad examine the cast.

"Flex your fingers?" he says, and Edward complies.

"Well, it looks okay," Dr. Cullen finally says, letting Edward drop his arm back down to his lap. He ruffles Edward's hair briefly and says, "You gave your mother quite a scare."

"Sorry," Edward says, shrugging his shoulders.

"It wasn't his fault," I say, the words tumbling out of my mouth before I can stop them. I try to bite my tongue, but it's too late. Dr. Cullen looks at me and raises an eyebrow.

"The Cutler kid again?" he asks, turning back to Edward.

"Yeah."

"When this gets healed up I'll show you some moves. Teach you how to fight back," Dr. Cullen says, tapping Edward's cast with one finger. "C'mon, we stopped at Marco's and picked up some pizza."

Edward's mom's voice startles me, and I turn my head to find her leaning against the doorway.

"Jasper, would you like to stay for dinner?"

The thought of dinner with the Cullens scares the crap out of me.

But... they're Edward's family. I'm going to have to deal with them eventually. And even though they don't know the extent of our relationship just yet, his mom did see us holding hands at the hospital yesterday, and she hasn't flipped out about it or anything.

I look over at Edward, but he's not giving me any indication about what he wants me to do. I have to decide on my own, and even though I'm worried about making a good impression-even though pissing off Edward's parents could really fuck up our relationship-I think it's worth it. Making Edward's parents actually _like_ me could make our lives a lot easier.

"Sure," I say, smiling at Edward's mom. "I mean, thanks. I'd love to."

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for sticking with me. :) Please let me know what you think. Is Jasper making the right call?<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Oh, you want to read some more fic? Okay:<strong>

**Shameless Self-Pimp:**

Did you know I wrote something for the No Stress Love Fest? I did! Go check out the entries and see if you can guess which one is mine. :)

twi-love-fest. livejournal. com

**Rec for people who want to recapture that "OMG THIS IS WHY FIC EXISTS!" feeling:**

Meant to Be by Fr333bird

/7752997/1/Meant_to_Be

It's Seth/Riley, AU, and MESMERIZING. I get the privilege of pre-reading this fic and I'm routinely floored by how unusual, delightful, and downright SPECIAL this story is. Please check it out and put it on alert!


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